Before our uncle tries to kill us again. His unspoken words hang heavy in the air between us.
“Then we don’t let her go back.” Her face once more the stony mask I’ve grown so used to seeing over the past two decades, Gray turns back to the table. “We find her and we bring her here. Bram gets the love of his life back and we get to keep our anonymity. It’s a win-win.”
Elias frowns. “Not for Josie. She has a family, Gray. They’re going to come looking for her.”
“We could fake her death,” Dane offers. “Get Gunther to whip up a new identity for her.”
“She’s too well known.” At my words, my entire family turns to look at me. Save Colt, who already knows what I’m about to say. “She’s a writer. A damn good one, and a bestseller with a large enough fanbase that we can’t risk her being spotted in public after her supposed death.”
Silence greets my revelation. “How do you know that?” Gray asks, her tone borderline combative.
“Gunther,” I say by way of explanation. “Once a year or so, he checks up on her for me.”
“Would have helped if he’d checked up on her travel plans for the year,” Eli grumbles.
“It would have. But maybe he can still help,” Gray says slowly, resuming her pacing as her mind works out the plan. “Look, if she’s here, she probably booked a cabin or something, right? She’s not just here for a day or two. This isn’t the kind of town people show up in because they’re just passing through.”
“What’s your point, Gray?” Eli asks.
“We have Gunther figure out where she’s staying and for how long. Hack into her email, monitor her socials and stuff to see if anyone is checking up on her, assure those people she’s fine. That gives us some time, at least, to lay the groundwork, convince the locals she’s fallen in love with the town and Bram, who she clearly has never met before now.”
“It’s risky,” Ford says slowly. “All it takes is her letting something slip to the wrong person for all this to unravel.”
“Then you come up with a better plan. I don’t fucking care. But I amnotuprooting our lives again. This is our home and I’ll be goddamned if I give it up that easily.”
Gray’s voice hitches at the end, letting us all know she’s dangerously close to tears for the first time in longer than I can remember. But before we can offer any comfort, she turns on her heel and sweeps out of the dining room.
“I’m with Auntie Gray.” By contrast, Lanie’s voice is surprisingly strong, shockingly fierce. “I don’t want to leave. I know that’s selfish and wrong, but I love it here. This is ourhome.”
Looking around, I see Gray and Lanie’s determination reflected in my brother’s eyes. Even Ford, who put up the most resistance when Axel decided he wanted to keep Lanie for himself, nods in agreement.
“All right. It’s decided, then.” Excitement begins to trickle through the pain and worry I’ve been carrying with me ever since I left that candy shop. The excitement of finally having the only woman I’ve ever loved back in my arms. “Let’s go kidnap my ex-girlfriend.”
CHAPTER 3
JOSIE
Ican’t sleep.
It’s been two days since my run-in with Bennett’s ghost, and every time I close my eyes, I see him again. The boy he was twenty years ago, his hair swept back from his unlined face, laughing without a care in the world.
And the man he’s become, all the softness chiseled away, half his face obscured by a thick, bushy beard.
Truthfully, I don’t even know how I recognized him. Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin I’ve rented for the month in an attempt to finish my next book, I find myself wondering how I even knew the big, gruff lumberjack was the boy I’d once loved.
The eyes, I decide. How many hours had I spent staring into those eyes when we were younger? First as a child with an impossible crush, memorizing every line of the boy she thought she loved. And later as a woman, lost in that sea of brown as he claimed me as his for the first time.
I would know those eyes anywhere, in any lifetime.
Resigned to yet another sleepless night, I slip out of bed and into the kitchen, which I’ve stocked with all of my favorite“author on a deadline” treats. There is some real food mixed in, even a veggie tray that will likely sit ignored until it turns into something resembling a science experiment, but I feel healthier for having bought it.
Mostly, though, it’s snack cakes and the fancy chocolates I use to reward myself for hitting my word counts, and every flavor of chips the small grocery store in town had in stock. If Bennett saw my kitchen right now, I have no doubt I’d be on the receiving end of a blistering lecture—and possibly more.
A memory resurfaces, one I’ve spent years torn between wanting to cherish and wanting to forget entirely. It was right after I’d graduated high school and my father had bought me a brand-new car as a graduation-slash-eighteenth-birthday gift. Gracie and I had taken the car out for a bit of a joy ride, and I’d almost immediately gotten myself a ticket for speeding. Really, it should have been for reckless endangerment, given how far over the limit I was, but the cop took pity on me and knocked a solid ten miles per hour off my actual speed when he wrote the ticket.
I didn’t think much of it when it happened. Not until Gracie and I got home and we told her brothers about it, both of us laughing up a storm over how nervous we’d been and how lucky I was that the cop let me off so easy.
Bennett, however, was not amused.
